A question
Olodumare sent Obatala to shape the land and mankind, with one warning: drink no wine on the way. Halfway there Obatala could not resist, collapsed drunk beside the palm wine, and every human he molded came out crooked — hunchbacked, one-eyed, lame. Sober again, he looks at his flawed children. Does he destroy them and start over, or claim them as his own?
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